


The World is Ending and We're Pretending

by ArgentJinx



Series: Can't Take That Away From Me [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Barbara Gordon Appreciation, Bruce Wayne need to learn how to parent, But He's Learning, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Dick Grayson is Trying, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Introspection, Thank god for Leslie Thompkins, lots of talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24802222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentJinx/pseuds/ArgentJinx
Summary: Damian cut Tim's line.  Tim suffered the consequences.  Now Dick is learning that just because he's a good guy, or even THE good guy, that doesn't mean he wasn't wrong.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Leslie Thompkins
Series: Can't Take That Away From Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793854
Comments: 34
Kudos: 250





	The World is Ending and We're Pretending

**Author's Note:**

> This was my character reference for Dick when I was writing What You Can't Take Back. I just expanded it to a short introspection piece based on that timeline. Basically what was happening with Dick during that story. This is Dick's POV and some introspection from What You Can't Take Back. It won't make sense without that story.

Dick shoves his shaking hands in his pockets as Damian’s bedroom door slams shut. Each breath feels like he’s trying to drag air past broken glass. The situation is worse than anything he had ever feared for his family. Because it wasn’t a villain, an alien or a deranged god that might have killed Tim. It was Damian. Tim might be dead already and Dick won’t know since he isn’t allowed to see him. Because of Damian. 

How had this happened? Yes, he knew that Damian had felt threatened by Tim, but that was normal, wasn’t it? For a little kid to feel over-shadowed by an older…kid’s…achievements. God, Tim is still a kid. Just seventeen and he might be dead.

He makes it to his bedroom door but can’t bring himself to go inside. Dick won’t be able to sleep no matter what he does, so he settles on going to the kitchen. Alfred is there, eyes red and stiff-lipped. He turns when Dick enters and wordlessly hands a hot mug, warm milk, to him. Neither men speak at first, with Dick just trying to comprehend how things had gotten so out of hand so quickly.

“I saw Master Damian’s treatment of Master Tim perhaps even more clearly than you did. I stood by and did nothing.” Alfred looks as exhausted as Dick feels, his voice cracking as he speaks. “There is a great deal of blame to go around.”

“Tim didn’t SAY anything. Not since he’s been back. And I thought things were okay. A little shaky after the Hitlist thing, but nothing like this.” Dick feels a tightness in the back of his throat that makes it hard to breathe, but the only poison in his mouth are the words.

“Perhaps the problem is everything that has been left unsaid. Master Tim should never have had to say anything. It was my duty, as well as yours and Master Bruce’s, to establish the rules of this household.” Alfred looks pointedly at the untouched mug. “Drink, Master Richard, and then try and sleep. Nothing will be resolved without some proper rest.” 

\------

Six weeks later Tim is supposedly recovering slowly and apparently he’s back at the apartment. Dick finds this out as the manor’s front door slams so loudly that he can hear it from his room. Raised voices echo up the hallway and Dick gets up to listen. 

“- still a child. You couldn’t possibly understand. It’s not safe for Tim to be on his own. If you don’t want to be around him while he’s here, that’s fine. In fact I’d say that’s for the best. But you will not interfere with me while I bring him home. Am I understood?” Bruce’s voice carries throughout the manor.

“Drake will not require my interference on his behalf again. I’m certain that Todd has designed a variety of insurances against you.” Damian is bolting up the stairs, his footsteps stomp through the hall and stop right outside of Dick’s door. 

“You can come in, if you want.” Dick knows that Damian won’t request to enter. He’ll stand in the hall all night before it comes to that. They’ve drifted apart in the last two months.

The door opens slowly and Damian shuffles inside the room. His cheeks are flushed and he’s breathing just a little bit too heavily. “I went to see Drake. He has returned to his apartment and will not be staying with us.”

“You saw Tim?” Dread and excitement unfurl in Dick’s chest. “How was he?” 

“Unwell.” Damian is blunt as ever. “Father is right to say he should not be on his own. But he is wrong to say that Drake should recover here. He is clearly in pain. He is suffering.”

“Then the manor IS the safest place for him.” Dick tries to reason, “We have everything he might need. There’s no reason for him to stay away. We WANT him here.”

Damian has the oddest expression on his face. “I will not deny that his presence would relieve father, Pennyworth, even me. But being trapped here would bring no comfort to Drake. He will recover best where he is.”

“Did you talk to Tim?” Dick decides changing the subject is the best course of action. Obviously, Bruce would have to convince Tim to come back and things would be like they were before. It would just take some time.

“Yes. It was what I expected. He does not forgive me.” Damian rubs his sweaty palms against his trousers, a clear sign of discomfort.

Dick sighs and reaches his hand out to rest on Damian’s shoulder and he doesn’t pull away. “He doesn’t mean that, Dami. Tim loves this family and you’re a part of it. He’s never been the type to stay angry.” 

“He does mean it.” Damian snaps. 

Of course, Damian doesn’t really know Tim, not the way Dick does. They’d never spent time getting to know each other. Damian doesn’t know that Tim forgave Superboy for crushing his arm. Or that he’d immediately forgotten his father’s years of neglect the moment Jack had started trying to act like a parent. He doesn’t know about Tim pretending to be the father of Stephanie’s child to support her during the pregnancy, despite the fact that they had broken up under less than stellar circumstances. And of course, Tim had been willing to reason with Jason no matter how many times the older boy had hurt him. Tim just had a forgiving nature and Damian would see that. It would work out eventually.

\------

Certain aspects of Damian’s behavior improve, while others hit rock bottom. In many ways it feels like they’re all back to where they started when Damian had first arrived. His attitude around the manor is atrocious as he blatantly ignores when he’s asked to do anything from chores to homework. The things Damian says are even worse. Every single flaw, whether real or perceived, of each person in the house is viciously attacked. No matter what any of them threaten Damian seems immune to the possible punishments. When they finally threaten to take Robin he scoffs, tuts and desists temporarily until cycling back up to his previous escalations.

On the other hand, he’s more careful in the field than he’s ever been. Damian is now less likely to immediately resort to violence if he has another option. At the manor guests are no longer attacked with acid comments. If Damian feels they are unworthy he simply leaves.

Dick hadn’t realized how much he had been leaning on Damian’s hatred of Tim. While Tim had been gone, the majority of Damian’s vitriol had still been targeted at him. Since Tim wasn’t there Dick figured it was an acceptable outlet for the time being and only occasionally scolded Damian, assuming the rivalry would eventually fizzle out. Tim’s return and subsequent success had ignited a new wave of vitriol from Damian that had seemed harmless enough at the time.

Now Dick has a better understanding from both sides and the pain from that realization makes him sick. If he hadn’t had the opportunity to know Damian before, Dick would want to kill the kid himself. Every day feels like he’s losing ground in some invisible battlefield. And none of the adults in the house seem to know how to handle it.

\------

Dr. Thompkins has Damian spending his weekends volunteering at a long-term care facility specializing in people who have suffered from traumatic brain injuries. Dick isn’t sure what that entails, but Damian has accepted the assignment without protest. Whatever Dr. Thompkins said to the kid to ensure his cooperation has cowed Damian enough that he’s been downright diligent in his duties. Alfred drops him off every Saturday and Sunday and Damian returns by taxi each evening.

After weeks of being subjected to Damian’s aggression, Dick offers to drive him one Saturday. He’s secretly hoping to speak with Dr. Thompkins about any ideas on how to curb Damian’s behavior. It seems like Damian just wants conflict and without Tim there as a punching bag he’s turned every bit of aggression in his body on the manor’s other inhabitants.

“He’s like a completely different person half the time.” Dick shakes his head. Damian is reading to a man who smiles engagingly, clearly enjoying the company. Every once in a while Damian almost smiles back.

“Dick, you might not realize this, but Damian suffered a trauma that night too. With no idea of how far his actions could take him, he went over an edge he didn’t know was there. Now he’s constantly searching for that edge. He blames himself and he blames you.” Dr. Thompkins’ forceful glare makes Dick feel ten years old all over again. “You have ALL suffered traumas and the fact that it’s nearly taken Timothy’s life for you to start facing that is its’ own tragedy.”

“Look, I know you’ve talked about rules, boundaries. But nothing we bring up seems to phase him.” Dick doesn’t like to ask for help. Not outside the family, at least. But Dr. Thompkins seems to understand.

She writes down an address in her notepad and hands the piece of paper to him. “I know you’re trying. When he’s done here you should go with Damian to his next appointment. It’ll be good for both of you.”

Dick hadn’t known that Damian had another ‘appointment.’ As far as he’s aware, nobody except Damian had known that he was visiting two places each weekend. And Damian is furious to find out that Dick has been informed. He huffs and sighs during the drive, squirming in his seat like he has an itch he can’t scratch. Dick can almost feel the irritation rippling off the kid.

They pull up in the driveway of a secluded property in Bristol and Damian leaps out of the car before Dick has time to set the parking break. A woman in her sixties is watering flowers in the front, a large dog seated at her feet. She looks up and scowls when she sees Damian.

“I told you, you’re not allowed to be around the animals when you’re angry. So you can leave or try and clear your head for a bit, but you can’t see anyone.” She has the voice of a former smoker and the stern tone of Dr. Thompkins at her harshest.

Damian scuffs his feet in the dirt as Dick watches. “I do not wish to leave. I will try to regain my composure until you find my attitude satisfactory.”

Without a word, the woman turns the nozzle of the hose off and beckons to Damian. Dick follows at a distance, bemused at being ignored. She leads them to the side of the house and grabs a jar of nails and a hammer, then points to a large, rickety wooden fence. Handing the jar and hammer to Damian she nods, “You know what to do.”

The kid looks like he wants to protest, in fact Dick braces himself for scathing remarks and a seething attitude. So when Damian takes the items and heads over to the fence without protest, Dick is openly staring. 

“Well I’m impressed. Dick Grayson, Damian’s brother.” He reaches his hand out to the woman and she shakes it firmly. He can feel callouses on her palm.

“Robyn King. I just thought you might be the kid’s driver or something. Didn’t really ever expect to meet a family member.” She’s looking Dick up and down like she finds him falling short of expectations.

Dick looks around the yard which is tidy and well decorated. “You let some random ten year old out here to, what, fix up the property?”

“Leslie Thompkins vouched for him. Said he was volunteering at a long-term care facility. Same place I visit with the animals for therapy programs twice a month.” The sound of dogs barking is echoed by horses not too far off. “She thought this would be good for him. A nice reward.” 

“Mending a fence is the reward?” Dick grins to show he’s teasing.

“No, helping out with the animals. He’s good about it, too. Feeds and cleans without much complaining now.” She heads back to the front of the house and the dogs looks up, wagging its’ tail. Robyn picks the hose up and continues watering. “He didn’t want to do any of the work when he first came. Said it was ‘beneath’ him. Little shit. But he wanted to spend time with the animals and those are the rules. He can’t have the fun stuff without the work.”

“What about fixing the fence? Last I checked Dami’s not one for using tools.”

“That’s the other rule. He can’t be around the animals when he’s angry. A lot of them are rescues and they pick up on that kind of thing. So I have him drive nails into the fence posts until he either calms down or he has to go home. It’s an old fence I’m going to tear down eventually. Might as well get some use out of it.”

“That’s doesn’t seem very productive.” Dick had been taught from childhood that anger was energy, a tool to be utilized. It was a powerful motivator and pushed you past your limits. The best way to keep anger from controlling him was to be the one in control. 

“Should anger be productive?” Robyn, it seems, has a different school of thought. “I’ve heard people say that want to channel their anger, use it to do good things. But then, if everything you do is motivated by anger then how do you have the energy to be happy? How do you make choices without anger telling you what to do? I don’t want that kid working here while he’s angry. He should work hard because it feels good, because hard work can be fun, rewarding even.”

It takes over an hour, but eventually Damian returns and calmly hands the tools back to Robyn. Without being asked he heads around the back of the house while Dick follows quietly behind. Damian and Robyn work together silently as they clean out an expanse of yards, kennels and stalls. Many of the animals greet Damian affectionately and he calls each of them by name as he works.

By the time they leave Damian is as content as Dick has ever seen him. 

\------

Dick tumbles in to the clocktower a little after midnight to see Barbara tucked up against her desk, eyes glued to the screen. He knows that she can hear him, but she doesn’t turn around even when he speaks.

“I saw Tim at Jason’s today. We talked.” He still feels the sting of their encounter. 

“The words say good but the tone says bad.” Babs is the most practical person Dick has ever met. He just hopes that she can make sense of what he’s feeling.

“He doesn’t want to see me. Or talk to me. Babs, he hates me. Tim doesn’t hate anyone.” Dick can’t comprehend that. Tim DOESN’T hate. He’ll give people chances over and over until it, apparently, kills him. “I mean, Jason’s tried to kill him a bunch of times and now they’re best friends. But Tim won’t even look at me.”

Babs finally turns to look at him and rolls her eyes. “Well I’m happy to see you’re not taking this too hard.”

“I just don’t understand how to fix this.” Do people think he doesn’t want to fix this? “All the things Tim said, they’re not wrong. But I can’t change what happened and I can’t prove I can be better without Tim around to see.” 

“I’m not sure what you want, Dick. Should I tell you this isn’t your fault? Or do you want to take all the blame so you can feel like a martyr?” Barbara can be even more blunt than Damian.

“I want the truth.” He really doesn’t. He thinks he knows the truth and it’s going to be painful.

“See, you say that but I’m pretty sure you don’t.” She’s reading his mind now. “So let’s start out with this. You fucked up big time. And usually when you fuck up you just ignore what you did until it goes away.” 

Dick frowns at her. “I don’t do that, do I?”

“Um, yeah. You do. I think the biggest problem is you’re usually a pretty great guy. Most of the time you’re kind and good and maybe that makes your flaws that much worse.” Barbara is eyeballing him critically. “Everyone has flaws, Dick. The difference is, most people try and at least address theirs. But you just hope that all those ‘good guy’ credits cancel them out. The fact is, they don’t.”

There’s a cold, slimy feeling moving in his chest as he thinks about some of the things he’s said and done. His treatment of Kori and Babs, the horrible things he’d said to Donna and then Roy. None of them had ever really brought it up with him afterwards. And when they had he’d just ignored it, willed it away because if it wasn’t that big of a deal to him, then it wasn’t that big of a deal. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. That wasn’t- god that wasn’t what I meant. I wasn’t trying to use ‘good guy’ credits, I just wanted things to go back to what they were.”

“I kind of get that. You thrive on adoration. Being the center of attention. Positive attention. So when people force you to look at those ugly parts, not the parts caused by someone else, but those ugly parts that are all you, it hurts. You just don’t do it. So you wait for it to go away.” Somewhere on Barbara’s face, well hidden but still there, is resentment. Old hurts that sits just beneath the polished surface of her compassion.

“I just- look, Babs, I hurt you really, really badly. I know I did. I’m still so sorry. But then it sort of went away, like you said. I mean, you yelled at me and I felt bad, but I know I deserved more than that. So why did you just, I don’t know, let it go?” Dick is practically stuttering, trying to reach the end of the conversation so he can just THINK for a minute. He pulls his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“I needed you. I needed you so much back then. It was worth just ignoring the situation to preserve the friendship because I needed you more than I needed my pride.” Barbara fiddles with her hands in her lap. “And then we just synced back up, I guess. And things aren’t always perfect, but you’ve never done anything like that to me again, so I just moved on.” 

“You needed me.” He lets that cold feeling settle in his gut. “Tim doesn’t need me anymore.”

Barbara isn’t pulling any punches now. “Isn’t that what you wanted? That’s what you told him. That you were equals. And then I guess you didn’t really mean that since you turned around and discredited him to the only friends that were still alive at the time. So even if he needs you, he doesn’t have a lot of reason to trust you.”

“I never thought I was discrediting him. I never thought people wouldn’t help him.” Of course he’d wanted Tim to have access to help. At the time he’d just thought he needed access to mental health, not the superhero kind. But the point is that Dick hadn’t been trying to cut him off. “I just didn’t want anyone, I don’t know, getting their hopes up or drawn into something they couldn’t get out of. If they’d believed him they would have helped him. Nobody else believed him either.”

There’s a look of disbelief coloring Barbara’s face. “You really don’t see it, do you? I always assumed you were taking advantage on purpose, but you don’t even realize.”

“What?”

“You have your own superpower, kind of. You’re handsome, charming, and worst of all, confident. When you say things people BELIEVE you. Because you believe you. When you led the Titans you did a good job. You’re smart and capable. But your leadership was awarded because of your charisma. People want to follow you because you make them feel good and sure of themselves.” She’s grinning, but it has a bitter irony to it and doesn’t reach her eyes.

“That’s not what I do.” Except, maybe…

“That’s exactly what you do. So when Dick Grayson, leader of the O.G. Titans, first protege of Batman and general hero darling says that his baby brother is irrational from grief, people are going to believe you. And you were WRONG! But no one’s brought it up. No one apologized to Tim. All of us, and I’m including me because I believed you too, let things just keep getting worse for that kid.” Babs says it as though he should be having an epiphany. Dick is having an epiphany, but it’s not making him feel any better. Talking to Barbara is always complicated when it comes to things like this. She's almost always right, which is better in the long run, but it sure as hell hurts in the meantime.

“So, because people believed me over Tim I’m an arrogant ‘nice guy’ who takes advantage of people unknowingly because they trust me?” Dick tries to check his temper.

“Yes. But you’re also a good guy. You fucked up, yeah. And you hurt someone, badly. If you’re looking for forgiveness from him I doubt you’ll find it anytime soon. For now maybe just working on yourself will have to be enough.” She smiles a little more genuinely. “Own up to what you’ve done with the friends you’ve wronged who still talk to you, make amends if you can. And if you can’t, well, that’s just what you have to accept.”

It’s definitely not what he’d wanted to hear.

\------

Bruce and Damian are shouting again and Dick’s not even sure what it’s about. This is going to have to stop soon. Dick almost considers calling Dr. Thompkins before Bruce closes his eyes, pinches his nose and leaves the room. Damian is fuming and Dick is left standing with an outraged child on the verge of exploding.

“You all right, Dami?” Dick places a hand on his shoulder.

Damian pushes him away. “Your concern is unnecessary.” 

“I was just asking.”

“Well do not bother. Both you and father have no qualifications to infer my state of wellbeing. At this point I often think it would be best if you left me entirely to my own devices as Dr. Thompkins provides more than adequate direction.”

“That’s not fair, okay? None of us were prepared for your situation. I know things have been confusing but we’re both still learning.”

“You are both incompetent.” Damian’s words are expected but the punch takes Dick by surprise. It’s not hard, it barely stings, but it’s violent. It’s an outburst that would have been tolerated once. Time for a new tactic.

“Incompetent or not, you’ve just lost your animal privileges.” Dick almost smirks at the shock on Damian’s face. “You’ll still go to the care facility this weekend, but straight home after. I’ll call Robyn so she’ll know.”

“That’s not fair. You gave me no warning.” Damian’s nostrils flare with temper and his lips are drawn in a thin line.

“You’ve had warnings. Loads of them. You know you’re not allowed to hit outside of training. This is the consequence.” It can’t possibly be this easy. Finding consequences to actions can’t POSSIBLY be this easy. Something tells Dick that it might be. “This has to stop, Dami. All of this. The disrespect. The anger. The violence. We have to be better.”

Damian doesn’t look at him as he stomps past and heads upstairs to his room.

\------

Damian returns to the manor early on Saturday, subdued but clearly tense. Dick had not relented and, true to his word, had called Robyn to ensure that Damian would not be allowed to visit.

Dick let’s a few hours pass before going to Damian’s room to check on him. The kid is sitting crosslegged in the middle of his bed staring intently at his computer. He scowls when Dick walks in.

“What’re you up to?” Since the punishment of not seeing the animals seems to be sufficient Dick has no qualms about being pleasant.

“Drake has possession of a cat that he is ill-equipped to care for. I am sending a ‘care package’ to ease him into the role of pet-caretaker.” Damian keeps his eyes locked on the screen.

“That kitten from the other night? You took it to Tim?”“I took HER to Drake because he was close by. And as it turns out he had everything necessary to keep her alive.” Damian finally looks up. “ I feel she is partly my responsibility. Therefore I will assist him with amenities.”

“That’s,” awesome, sweet, kind, “good. That’s really good, Dami. He’ll love it.”

“It upsets you that I’ve spoken to him.” Damian is good at reading people in his own way.

“I’m not upset. Just, sad, I guess.” Dick decides on trying an honest conversation. “Maybe a little jealous. I have a lot to say. Amends to make. I just don’t want our lives to go by without ever telling him certain things.”

“Why haven’t you told him ‘certain things’ if it’s so important?”

“Because he doesn’t want to see me. He doesn’t want to speak to me.” For a moment Dick feels guilty, confessing what he’s thinking to a child. But he’s trying to be more open, to be less like Bruce, to show he’s a flawed human who can hopefully come back from his mistakes.

“How unfortunate we are to have no methods of communication available to us other than speaking. Surely someone is capable of inventing another form using printed words. Possibly even with the ability to send such across a distance with no contact.” Damian’s sarcasm sometimes borders on poetic. 

“I don’t know if he’ll be willing to read a letter. But maybe a note or something.” Dick considers that idea for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?”

Damian quirks his lips up in a tiny smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you might find this story satisfying, some probably not. This was the character reference I used while writing the first one. Hope it meets with your approval.


End file.
